


Surprise

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-02-15
Updated: 1999-02-15
Packaged: 2018-11-10 06:54:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11122107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Ray's surprise birthday plans for Fraser go awry when the homesick Canadian and his white wolf try to save a young girl's life.





	Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

(Type a title for your page here)  
 _This story was originally published in the zine YOU PAY AND PAY AND  
PAY._  
  
  


# Surprise

## by Angela Rivieccio

  
  
  
        Ray Vecchio parked his  
beloved Buick Riviera in the No Parking Zone in front of the Canadian  
Consulate, leaving the engine running. Fraser's shift would be over  
in a few minutes. He had arrived a bit early, the hearing he had spent  
the entire afternoon at the courthouse waiting to testify in postponed  
yet again. _No wonder lawyers charge so much money,_ he thought  
to himself, aggravated by the wasted day. _By the time they finish  
one case they're old enough for retirement._  
        He  
sat with his head leaning back against the headrest, his eyes closed,  
air conditioner going full blast, letting the sounds of the city he loved  
so much calm his frayed nerves. It was late Spring, yet already Chicago  
was in the midst of a summer-like heat wave. When he opened his eyes  
a few minutes later, they fell on the dashboard clock, and widened.   
_5:05 p.m.? Fraser's late._ He was mildly surprised, in an amused  
sort of way, that the always-punctual Mountie would keep anyone waiting.  
 _I didn't think anything short of a full-scale invasion of Canada would  
have done that._  
        He  
turned off the motor and got out of the car, not bothering to lock the  
door. Entering the Consulate, he climbed the stairs to the second floor.  
No one was at the desk in the small reception area.  
        He  
cast a glance at Inspector Thatcher's door. _I'll bet The Dragon Lady's  
already left for the day,_ the sarcastic comment rose unbidden in  
his mind. In the past year, Margaret Thatcher had revealed herself to  
be a competent officer of the RCMP. She still ran roughshod over Fraser  
now and again, but Ray suspected that it was less from her frustrations  
with his police methodologies and more because of their growing attraction  
toward each other. _I wonder if either of them are ever going to do  
something about that?_  
        He  
knocked once, then opened the door to Fraser's office, not waiting for  
a reply.  
        At first  
glance, he thought Fraser had already left. The room was dark, but when  
he opened the door a bit wider, he could see the dim light of a slide  
projector casting the image of a snow covered landscape on the wall behind  
Fraser's desk. The Mountie sat on the opposite side of the desk staring  
at it, apparently lost in thought.  
        "Benny?"  
He turned on the light.  
        Fraser  
blinked rapidly several times, getting up as he turned to face him.   
"Oh, Ray. I'm sorry. I didn't hear you come in."  
        "You  
weren't outside, so I thought I'd come in to check on you."  
        Fraser looked at his  
watch, a guilty expression appearing on his face. "Oh, dear. I  
apologize for the delay, Ray. I lost track of the time."  
        Ray  
smiled, letting his friend off the hook. "No big deal, Fraser.  
What are you doing, anyway?"  
        Fraser  
shut down the projector, unplugged it, then retrieved his hat and led  
Ray out of the office and down the stairs. "Inspector Thatcher  
has given me the task of updating the Liaison Office's 'This Is Canada'  
presentation. I've been gathering data and going through slides most  
of the day."  
        Once  
in the car, Ray started the engine and merged the car into rush hour  
traffic. "So what's so hard about that? Choose a few pictures  
of barren, snow-covered landscape with a few polar bears, and you're  
done."  
        "Canada  
is a whole lot more than snow and polar bears, Ray," Fraser censured  
in a quiet tone.  
        Ray  
waited for the usual lecture about Canadian geography and cultural diversity,  
but it never came. He cast a puzzled frown over at his passenger, but  
Fraser merely sat staring out the windshield.  
        The  
rest of the short ride was completed in silence.  
        Ray  
pulled the car to the curb in front of the tenement, then turned to face  
his friend. "Hey, Fraser, why don't you go upstairs and change  
and we'll go out for some dinner?"  
        "No,  
thank you, Ray," Fraser replied. "I'm not really hungry."  
        "Are you okay?   
You seem rather distracted."  
        "I'm  
fine, Ray," he said, finally meeting his eyes, but the brief smile  
of reassurance seemed forced. "Thanks for the ride."  
        Ray  
remained silent for a moment, then shrugged. "No problem, Fraser.  
I'll see you tomorrow."  
        Fraser  
opened the car door and stepped out, leaning over to look in at the last  
moment. "Good night, Ray."  
        "'Night,  
Benny."  
        He closed  
the door, and Ray waited until he stepped back from the curb before driving  
away.  
         _I wonder  
what's wrong?_ Ray thought, an unconscious frown of concern marring  
his features. _It's not like Fraser to be so quiet, especially not  
after a crack on Canada like that._ Fraser's normal reaction would  
have been a: "Ray, Ray, Ray..." followed by a ten minute lecture  
that may or may not have included an Inuit story. But Fraser's tone  
of voice had seemed almost...wistful. Ray's mind replayed the scene  
at the Consulate, focusing in on the Mountie just before he'd turned  
on the lights in his office. Fraser had been staring at that slide like  
an adult child would look at a picture of a deceased parent.  
        Fraser  
had seemed almost homesick.  
        Ray  
quickly changed lanes, navigating the Riviera deftly around a slower  
moving vehicle, his mind on more important matters. Now that he thought  
about it, Fraser had been acting kind of odd the past couple of days.  
His mind replayed a scene that had taken place his house a couple of  
nights ago. Ray had been in the kitchen helping his mother unclog the  
sink, and when he finished he'd walked into the living room to find his  
brother-in-law, Tony, fast asleep in the reclining chair, and Fraser  
sitting on the couch watching some National Geographic special on the  
Arctic. Fraser had stared hungrily at the screen, like a man who had  
been lost in the desert and was suddenly being offered a gallon of cool  
water to drink. Afterwards, Fraser had been more subdued for the rest  
of the evening, but Ray hadn't made much of it at the time.  
         _He's  
been homesick before,_ Ray recalled with a pang of empathy, _but  
it hasn't bothered him in quite a while. At least, I didn't think it  
had._ He knew that the transition from the northern wilderness to  
the urban jungle had not been an easy one for the Mountie. At the beginning,  
Fraser had turned up at the station all the time, involving himself in  
Ray's cases when the cop hadn't even really wanted his help, until Ray  
realized it was an unconscious coping mechanism on Fraser's part -- a  
way to keep the intense frustration of going from a vital, active law  
enforcement officer to Consulate doorman at bay. So Ray had let him  
help, becoming so used to Fraser helping him over time that he had come  
to consider the Canadian his partner, albeit an 'unofficial' one.  
        Arriving home, he parked  
the car in the driveway beside the house and went inside. The smell  
of food cooking hit him immediately, and Ray followed his nose to the  
kitchen, expecting to see his mother preparing a feast for dinner.  
        He found Francesca, instead.  
        "Hey, Frannie,"  
he said, coming up beside her as she stood before the counter chopping  
some fresh parsley with a knife. He turned to the stove and lifted a  
pot cover to deeply sniff at the stew cooking inside. "Mmmmmm,  
that smells great."  
        "If  
you stick your fingers in there, I'll cut your hand off," Francesca  
snapped in lieu of a greeting.  
        Ray  
put the cover back on the pot, then moved around to her other side and  
swiped a piece of mozzarella cheese from the plate on the counter instead.  
"What are you doing?"  
        She  
pretended not to see the transgression. "Testing out some new recipes.  
If they come out good, I'll add them to my catering menu."  
        He  
was proud of the way his sister's new business was taking off, although  
he'd never tell her that. A smile tugged at his lips as he remembered  
her being arrested for not having a permit from the City to sell sandwiches  
at the precinct, an idea he had thought stupid in the first place. She  
certainly had come a long way since then.  
        "After  
dinner I've got to go to the mall," she informed him, pulling him  
back to the present once more. "I've been wracking my brain trying  
to come up with the perfect gift for Fraser's birthday this Saturday,  
but haven't found anything special enough. You know, something that  
says 'I know we're friends, but it would be okay with me if we became  
something more.' Got any ideas?"  
        Francesca's  
seductive comment about the Mountie was ignored as Ray's mind focused  
on the words that had come before it.  
        Fraser's  
birthday.  
         _That's  
got to be it!_ Ray realized as his friend's behavior the past few  
days fell neatly into place. _Birthdays are times you spend with those  
close to you, with family. Maybe the fact that he's so far from home,  
and doesn't have any family left, has got him feeling down._  
        "Ray?"  
        He, too, still hadn't  
picked up a gift for his friend -- work had kept him too busy the past  
few days. _What can I give him that will cheer him up, and let him  
know he's not alone anymore?_  
        His  
eyes widened as the perfect present suddenly sprang to mind.  
        "Frannie,  
I need you to do me a favor."  
        His  
sister snorted. "Yeah, right. Like what have you done for me lately  
that I should be nice to you now?"  
        A  
sly smile appeared on his face, green eyes sparkling. He moved in behind  
her, wrapping his arm about her waist. "All right, I admit, I haven't  
been the world's most loving brother lately. I apologize."  
        Her eyes widened in disbelief,  
not buying the phoney sincerity act. _She may be a pain in the neck,_  
Ray thought to himself with typical sibling affection, _but she sure  
isn't stupid._  
        "But  
this favor really isn't for me, Frannie. It's for Fraser." Her  
expression melted just a bit. Now I've got her. "It just might  
be the perfect gift for him, as well..."  
        She  
stared at him a moment longer, then pulled out of his embrace and moved  
to sit down at the kitchen table.  
        "Tell  
me more."  
        He  
couldn't keep a genuine smile off his face as he sat down and told her  
what he had in mind.  
  
\-----  
  
        Fraser finished preparing  
Diefenbaker's dinner, squirting the liquid vitamins onto the dry food  
with an eye dropper, then placed the dish on the floor beside his water  
bowl. The wolf began eating immediately. He returned the small bottle  
to its shelf in the refrigerator, eyes falling on the small dish of leftovers  
that should have been tonight's dinner, then closed the door.  
        He  
hadn't been lying to Ray when he'd said he wasn't hungry. The strange  
melancholy that had clung to him like a blanket the past few days had  
left him listless and without an appetite. He crossed the apartment  
to the window next to the bed, leaning against the wall to stare out  
into the gathering dusk.  
         _Why  
should now be any different than last week?_ he wondered, eyes not  
seeing the still-bustling city below. _Or be any different from next  
week?_  
        A sigh  
escaped him. He'd been living in exile in Chicago for more than two  
years now. Until recently, most of that time he'd simply been used as  
an ornament at work, standing in front of the Consulate building on guard  
duty. Through his association with Ray he had been able to remain active,  
participating in actual policework, even if only unofficially. And,  
somehow, he always managed to involve himself in the lives of those around  
him, from fixing a broken table leg for a neighbor to trying to make  
the neighborhood a safer place to live.  
        Helping  
others was something so ingrained in him, that he could not conceive  
of not attempting to do so. _I try to be available to those in the  
community who need assistance, even though Ray would have me believe  
that I am beating my head against a brick wall. Most of them are grateful...  
eventually,_ he amended.  
        But  
where there was one person whom he managed to help, there were ten others  
who also need help, and were ignored by everyone else around them.  
        Was that the problem?  
Was he beginning to tire of the cold indifference of city life he met  
with day after day?  
          
"It would be nice, to get out of this place and back to the Territories."  
        Fraser looked up to see  
his father standing opposite him, dressed in red serge.  
        "You  
should have left last fall, when that boss of yours offered you a transfer,"  
he continued with a gentle admonishment.  
        "I  
didn't want to leave Chicago at the time, Dad," he replied, annoyance  
tinging his voice.  
        "What  
about now?"  
        A  
weariness settled itself on his shoulders, seeping down through his skin  
and imbedding itself in his bones.  
        "You're  
going to be thirty-six years old in two days, Benton," Fraser Sr.  
continued, reading the indecision. "You're at a dead-end here.  
If you want to advance in your career, you've got to get back to where  
you can do some good."  
        "You  
seem to forget I'm not wanted back home, Dad," Fraser reminded him  
quietly.  
        "Oh,  
they'll take you back if you applied, son. With your service record,  
they'd be fools not to. It may take a while, but if you do your job  
the way you've always done it, you'll eventually regain their respect."  
         _The way I've always  
done my job..._ Most of the fellow officers he'd worked with through  
the years thought him to be an odd fellow, the methods he'd employ to  
accomplish his duty more than a little unusual. None had ever taken  
the time to get to try and get to know him better, and he'd never attempted  
to move beyond the acquaintance stage with any of his co-workers, either.  
On the job, it had always been himself against the elements, at least  
until the day he'd rescued Diefenbaker from that bear trap.  
        "Think  
about it, son."  
        In  
fact, he had been by himself most of his life.  
        After  
his mother died, he'd moved with his grandparents from village to village,  
and he had found it easier not to form any strong friendships with the  
children his own age. He would spend most of his time in the library  
reading, or helping some of the elderly Inuit villagers who, in exchange,  
taught him about their diverse culture.  
         _It's  
always been just me,_ he thought to himself, as if only now realizing  
how lonely his life had been. _I've never relied on anyone other than  
myself for anything, until coming to Chicago._  
         _Until  
I met Ray._  
        A  
wet nose touched his hand, and brought Fraser back to the present.  
        His father was no longer  
there.  
        He gave his  
companion a gentle pat on the head, then moved back to the refrigerator  
and removed the dish of leftovers, emptying it into a small pan on the  
stove and turning on the gas. He still wasn't hungry, but he forced  
himself to eat the meager meal anyway. Diefenbaker sat watching him,  
with more than the desire for table food in his warm brown eyes.  
        His mind wandered once  
again, thinking of his time in Chicago. _Ray has been a good friend  
to me. The only real friend I've ever had. Without him, my exile to  
Chicago would have been unbearable._  
        He  
got up and cleared the table, then washed the dishes, unable to let them  
sit in the sink until the following morning. When he was finished he  
returned to the window, settling himself against the wall. The streets  
were emptier now, adding to his feeling of isolation.  
         _Ray's  
done so much for me these past two and a half years. But what have I  
done for him? Most of the time he complains about the dangerous cases  
I get him involved in, or the number of his suits I've ruined. I've  
been taking his friendship for granted, and he deserves better than that._  
        Diefenbaker whined.  
        "Perhaps it is merely  
the time of year when internal contemplation is a natural reaction,"  
he told the wolf, who sat at his feet, seeming to know his friend was  
upset, but unsure as to how to make him feel better.  
        Maybe  
his father was right. Maybe he should return to Canada.  
        Who  
else besides Ray would miss him when he was gone?  
          
\-----  
  
        Ray returned the phone  
to it's cradle with a satisfied smile. He'd spent the day setting his  
plan into motion, which hadn't been easy -- Lieutenant Welsh had been  
keeping a covert, or so he thought, eye on him from inside his office.  
So he'd put in a token effort on some of his assigned cases, and stole  
a few minutes here and there to work on what was really important.  
         _After all,_ he  
thought to himself, _I know where my priorities are._  
        Luckily,  
he'd managed to convince Frannie last night to do a lot of the work.  
She had been more than eager to help, once he'd told her what he had  
in mind.  
        "Ray,"  
Elaine called, approaching the desk with a file in her hand. "I've  
added the information your requested to the McGasky file. What do you  
want me to do with it?"  
        Ray  
focused on the pretty civilian aide. "Uh, just send it up to forensics.  
They'll handle it from there."  
        The  
dark woman nodded. "So, is everything all set for tomorrow?"  
        The smile was back, brighter  
than before. "Just about. At least on my end. I hope Frannie  
doesn't screw up her part in this."  
        "Relax,"  
she replied, reaching out to give his arm a reassuring pat. "I'm  
sure everything will work out just fine. Besides, Fraser's not all that  
particular, anyway."  
        He  
watched her as she left the bullpen, shaking his head. He knew she'd  
fallen for the Mountie the moment she had laid eyes on him over two years  
ago, but had reconciled herself to the fact that Fraser considered her  
a friend, and nothing more. _Now if Frannie would only get a clue..._  
        Jack Huey walked into  
his field of vision. "So how are you planning to keep this from  
the Mountie?"  
        Ray  
shrugged his shoulder. "Crossed fingers and a lot of prayer."  
        "With your sister  
involved, you'd better have more up your sleeve than that."  
        "Yeah, don't I know  
it."  
        "Fraser  
has no idea what you're up to?"  
        Ray  
smiled. "Not a clue, and I intend to keep it that way."  
        The door to the squad  
room swung open, and the topic of their conversation walked in. Ray studied  
his friend as he approached. While his uniform was as neat and spotless  
as ever, the Canadian's face was shadowed, and he looked tired and drawn.  
 _You really are down, Benny, aren't you?_ He felt brief pang of  
guilt, then forced it aside. _Well, it's only for one more night.  
Hopefully this present will cheer you up._  
  
  
        Fraser spotted Ray standing  
next to his desk, talking with Detective Huey, and moved to join them.  
"Good afternoon, gentlemen."  
        "Hey,  
Fraser," Huey greeted.  
        "Hi,  
Benny," Ray said, straightening slightly from his casual stance.  
"Tough day at the Consulate?"  
        "Not  
particularly," he replied. _I only looked at more slides, reminding  
me of all that I've lost..._  
        "Ray!"  
Francesca came barreling into the bullpen, heading straight for her brother's  
desk. "Everything's a go. I finished making all the arrangements,  
and..." Her words stumbled to a halt when she saw him. "Uh,  
hello Benton."  
        "Francesca,"  
he replied, concerned, as the color seemed to drain from her face. "Are  
you all right?"  
        She  
began to fidget, not quite able to meet his eyes. "Uh, yeah. Sure.  
I'm fine."  
        "Frannie's  
just excited," Ray said quickly, green eyes locked with brown.   
"She's got her first big catering job on Sunday."  
        Her  
eyes widened slightly. "Yeah. Yeah, that's right."  
        "Oh,  
then may I offer you my congratulations, Francesca," he replied.  
        "Uh, yeah... Thanks.  
So I'm, uh, I'm here to, uh--"  
        Elaine,  
back from her errand in Forensics, was crossing towards the file cabinet  
near them.  
        "--I'm  
just here to get a recipe from Elaine!" Francesca lunged slightly  
to grab the other woman by the shoulders. "There you are, Elaine!  
I've been looking all over for you."  
        Elaine  
seemed puzzled. "You have?"  
        Francesca  
glared at the civilian aide. "Of course. You promised to give  
me that special recipe of yours, remember?"  
        "Are  
you people working on any particular case at right now?" Lieutenant  
Welsh interrupted as he stepped out of his office to glare at them.  
        "Uh, no, sir. Not  
at the moment," Ray replied.  
        "Then  
there is no need to overtax the city's budget by standing around and  
discussing personal matters on the city's time, is there?" He continued  
to glare at them for a few seconds longer, then went back inside his  
office.  
        "That's  
right!" Francesca chimed in, clutching at Elaine once more. "Come  
on, Elaine. You said you had that recipe in your locker. Let's go get  
it." She practically dragged Elaine out of the room with her.  
        Ray swallowed convulsively,  
then gave a shrug. "Sisters."  
        "Yeah,"  
Huey agreed. After a moment, he glanced down at his watch. "Well,  
I'd better to go, too." He glanced at Vecchio before continuing.  
"Going out of town this weekend, and I've got to go home and pack.  
See you around, Fraser."  
        "Good  
night, Detective Huey," Fraser said.  
        "Yeah.  
Have a good time, Jack." He glanced at his friend. "Look,  
Benny. I'd love to drive you home, but I just don't have the time tonight.  
I've got a lot to do before tomorrow." He moved to his desk and  
removed his gun from the drawer, hooking it on his belt.  
        Fraser's  
mood brightened. _Perhaps Ray has something special planned for my  
birthday._ "You have plans tomorrow?"  
        "Yup,"  
the Italian replied. "I met this fantastic lady at the coffee shop  
this morning, and we're spending the day together. She just moved to  
Chicago, so I'm gonna show her around town. See the sights, picnic lunch,  
and maybe an early movie and dinner afterwards."  
        It  
was by sheer will alone that Fraser kept his face from revealing the  
wave of disappointment that washed through him. "Oh. Well, have  
a nice time, Ray."  
        "You,  
too, Benny. See you on Monday."  
        Then  
he was gone.  
        Fraser's  
sense of abandonment was complete as he stood alone besides Ray's desk.  
 _Ray must have forgotten,_ the rational side of his mind struggled  
to regain control over his raging emotions. _He's been very busy lately.  
It must have just slipped his mind._  
        But  
the pain in his heart threatened to overwhelm him.  
        He  
was beginning to attract stares from the other officers who remained  
in the room. He turned almost mechanically and walked towards the door.  
        Life in the Arctic had  
certainly been cold, but Fraser suddenly found life in the city to be  
glacial by comparison.  
  
\-----  
 _  
        Fraser sat at the desk  
in his small office at the Consulate. He picked up the top file from  
the tall stack that he was required to work on and opened it up, beginning  
to write in his neat handwriting. After a few minutes, he closed the  
file and set it off to the side, reaching for the next file. Then the  
next, then the next.  
        But  
no matter how fast he wrote, the stack refused to shrink.  
        A  
shrill shout from somewhere outside caused his head to snap up, and he  
quickly moved from the desk to his office window. He drew back the curtain  
and scanned the street. Everything looked normal. People walked along  
the sidewalk at a casual pace, traffic moved smoothly down the three  
lane street.  
        He sighed  
then returned to his desk to continue his work.  
        But  
the files were gone.  
        Frowning,  
he quickly searched the small room, but he could not find them anywhere.  
He shook his head, then exited his office and went downstairs, stopping  
before the double doors of the Consulate. Seized by an unexplainable  
impulse, he opened one of the doors and went outside. Most everyone  
seemed to be heading in the same direction, so Fraser joined them, moving  
into the stream of people walking down the street. Only a few people  
were heading in the opposite direction, and he altered his path to allow  
them room.  
        "Benton..."  
        He stopped abruptly,  
recognizing the voice he'd thought had long ago faded from his memory.  
Anxious eyes scanned the crowd, falling on the beautiful woman mid-way  
down the next block. He hadn't seen her since he was six years old.  
She hadn't changed a bit.  
        "Mother,"  
he whispered, a lump forming suddenly in his throat.  
        He  
started walking again, a bit faster this time, as he made his way toward  
her. The flow of people moving in the opposite direction had increased  
somewhat, and Fraser dodged them as best he could.  
        "Be  
a good boy, Benton."  
        Fraser  
stopped at the corner, his grandmother's warning snapping his head around  
to the left. His grandparents stood waiting for him about half way down  
the block. He turned back to where he had last seen his mother.  
        But she was gone.  
        Confused, and with a  
sense of panic beginning to well up inside him, he started towards his  
grandparents. But more and more people were heading in the opposite  
direction now, and he was bumped into and jostled quite a bit, no matter  
how hard he tried to avoid it.  
        "It's  
too crowded here, son," his Father's voice came from behind him.  
        Fraser spun around to  
find Robert Fraser standing at the corner he'd just stood at only a few  
moments before.  
        "You  
should go back to the Territories, where you belong."  
        He  
turned back towards his grandparents, but they, too, had now disappeared.  
        His panic was now laced  
with fear. "Dad!" he shouted, starting back for the corner  
at a run, but he could make no headway as he tried to fight against the  
tide of bodies moving in the opposite direction, dragging him along in  
their wake.  
        His father  
merely shook his head and walked away, disappearing around the corner.  
        "Dad, wait!"  
        But it was hopeless.  
        "We could have been  
together forever, Ben..."  
        A  
cold sweat broke out across his body as the soft voice, that voice he  
had fallen in love with so many years ago, reached his ears.  
        She  
stood across the street, her dark curly hair blowing softly in the breeze.  
She looked as beautiful as the last time he'd seen her, her arms slipping  
from around his waist as he'd fallen from the train. He could still  
smell her perfume, see the look of triumph turning into fear in her eyes  
as she realized he was lost to her for a second time, stopped by Ray's  
bullet.  
        Without realizing  
what he was doing, he pushed his way across the sidewalk, bodily fighting  
the still-moving wave of bodies, his need to get to her overwhelming.  
        There was a screeching  
of brakes, then something hard slammed him down to the pavement.  
        He lay there, too stunned  
to even breathe. It took him several moments to realize there was no  
pain. He lifted himself off the ground with shaky arms, and stood on  
legs that threatened to buckle beneath him at any moment.  
        The  
area was deserted.  
        There  
was no sound at all, save that of his harsh, ragged breaths and the pounding  
of his racing heart. No people walked on the sidewalks now, no traffic  
clogged the busy city streets. Not even the wind could be heard, the  
air deathly still.  
        He  
was alone.  
        He completed  
his journey across the street to find himself at the entrance of the  
27th Precinct, and went inside, racing up the stairs two at a time.  
        But the bullpen was empty  
as well.  
        He slowly  
walked over to Ray's desk and sat down in the chair opposite it, his  
usual seat when making his frequent visits to see the detective, wearily  
dropping his head in his hands. He felt hollow inside, as if all energy  
and spirit had been drained away, leaving nothing but the empty shell  
of his body behind.  
        "You  
never fit in here, Fraser."  
        Fraser  
looked up to see Ray leaning casually against Elaine's desk, arms crossed  
against his chest. His mouth opened to protest, but no sound came out.  
        "Face it, Benny,  
you've never fit in anywhere. You never will."  
        Ray  
turned and walked out of the squad room.  
        "Ray.  
Wait!"  
        Fraser  
somehow found the energy to jump to his feet and chased after him, but  
as the doors to the bullpen swung open Fraser found himself running through  
the hard-packed Yukon snow.  
        He  
stopped dead in his tracks, the cold air and wet snow like a slap in  
the face. His eyes scanned the barren landscape, but there was nothing.  
Nothing but white snow, gray sky, and himself.  
        The  
totality of his aloneness closed over him like the lid being closed on  
a coffin, cutting off all air and light and life. He sank to his knees,  
the cold wetness that soaked through his clothing, seeping through skin  
down to his very bones nothing compared to the icy coldness in his own  
heart._  
  
  
        Fraser gasped as his  
eyes flew open, the last images of his dream fading as reality solidified  
around him. The sun had already begun rising, sunlight streaming in  
through the back windows of his apartment. He drew in a deep breath  
and let it out in a shaky sigh, sitting up in his bed.  
        The  
day hadn't even begun yet, and already he was exhausted.  
        Diefenbaker  
raised his head from where he lay on the small area rug beside the bed,  
his large brown eyes regarding him silently.  
        "It  
was just a dream," Fraser informed him.  
        The  
wolf whined.  
        "Yes,  
I know I haven't been myself lately, however it is a perfectly normal  
reaction for people alone during holidays or special occasions to experience  
a form of depression. Whole studies have been conducted--"  
        A sharp bark.  
        "I  
have not been behaving irrationally," he protested, a defensive  
edge creeping into his voice. "Ray made other plans for the day.  
I couldn't very well have told him to cancel them so I wouldn't have  
to spend my birthday alone." _As much as I wanted to._  
        ==Baby.==  
        Fraser straightened suddenly  
at the harsh voice in his mind.  
        ==You've  
been moping around for the past few days in a sulk. 'Awww, poor Benton's  
alone for his birthday, stuck in the big city and wants to go home...'  
Next thing you know you'll be sucking your thumb and crying for Mommy.==  
        The portrait the voice  
painted of him left him cold and shaken. _Have I really been behaving  
like a child?_  
        =='No  
one remembered my birthday... Pity me, pity me.'==  
        Fraser  
dropped his head, feeling vaguely ashamed.  
        ==You  
let a stray feeling or two snowball into a full-scale depression. Can't  
even look at a few snapshots of the Yukon without turning into a blubbering  
idiot. What good are you to anyone now, least of all yourself? Some  
Mountie you are.==  
         _I  
may be a Mountie,_ he protested, his head coming up sharply as if  
to look his adversary straight in the eye, _but I'm also human. Why  
can't I be allowed to feel? To express my doubts and fears, as well  
as my joys and happiness?_  
        ==You've  
never **allowed** yourself to do that. You wouldn't know how to if  
you tried. 'Always keep your distance -- Maintain the Right,' that's  
your motto. You're your father's son, alright.==  
        "Enough!"  
he almost shouted, bolting from the bed, trying to silence the cruel  
voice. "This is ridiculous. It's my birthday. Just a day of the  
year like any other. My moping around here isn't going to make the day  
go by any faster. We've got lots of things to do today, Diefenbaker.  
Errands to run. So let's get cracking."  
  
\-----  
          
        Ray finished packing  
the car, making sure all items were secured in place before slamming  
the hatchback down. They couldn't use the Riviera for this, and Ray  
didn't want to chance his mother's station wagon being recognized, so  
Francesca had borrowed a car from one of her friends.  
        Ray  
glanced at his watch. "Come on, Frannie. Hurry up!" he shouted,  
with no annoyance in his voice. They'd spent the entire morning making  
final preparations and buying last minute supplies. Now it was nearly  
noon, and Ray was getting anxious. He hoped nothing happened to screw  
this up.  
        Francesca  
exited the front door of the house, locking it behind her. Ray had to  
admit, she looked fantastic with her hair drawn up in a French Twist  
and wearing an unusually, for Frannie, tasteful mini-dress. Affectionate  
exasperation filled him. She still refused to accept the fact that Fraser  
wasn't interested in more than her friendship, and took advantage of  
every opportunity to flirt with the Mountie, although she had toned it  
down somewhat from the early days of their friendship. In those days,  
most women's attempts to land the Canadian flew right over his head,  
and what didn't made him incredibly uncomfortable. Time had taught them  
all a few things.  
        As  
soon as she was beside him, he leaned over and gave her a quick kiss  
on the cheek.  
        Her  
eyes widened in surprise. "What was that for?"  
        "What?  
Can't a guy kiss his sister?"  
        Francesca  
smiled warmly at him. "Yeah, well, don't make it a habit, alright?"  
        "You sure we've  
got everything we'll need?"  
        Frannie  
sighed with long-suffering patience. "Yes, Ray. Now let's go already.  
You're the one who was rushing me, remember?"  
        "Okay,  
okay."  
        Ray got  
behind the wheel of the car, and they drove the short distance to Fraser's  
neighborhood. He parked the car a few blocks away, then turned off the  
ignition.  
        "What  
now?" Francesca asked.  
        Ray  
glanced at his watch, then took his cell phone from his pocket and set  
it on the dash.  
        "Now  
we wait."  
  
\-----  
  
        Fraser unplugged the  
iron from the wall and left it sitting upright on the counter to cool.  
He had accomplished a lot in the few hours since he'd awaken. He fixed  
breakfast for himself and Diefenbaker, although the wolf had enjoyed  
the food more than he had, then gave the small apartment a thorough cleaning,  
hand washed some of his laundry, and cleaned out the refrigerator. Mrs.  
Garcia had knocked on his door at that point, asking for some assistance  
in fixing a wooden picture frame that had broken, and he'd gladly gone  
to her apartment and glued it back together for her. She offered him  
some coffee, and he agreed to stay for a cup. Afterwards, he had walked  
over to the small grocery store down the block and picked up some groceries  
for the coming week, dropped off his uniforms at the dry cleaners, and  
picked up some laundry he had dropped off the day before, returning to  
his apartment to iron them.  
        It  
was noon now, and he couldn't think of any more mindless tasks that needed  
to be done.  
        Diefenbaker  
sat staring at him, those warm brown eyes speaking volumes.  
        "You're  
not getting any of the coffee cake Mrs. Garcia gave me this morning,  
Diefenbaker," Fraser replied, exasperated at the wolf's insatiable  
desire for sweets. "So you can forget that idea right now."  
        Dief whined morosely.  
        "You're getting  
soft, I hope you know that. You've been eating too much unhealthy food  
since we moved to Chicago, and you haven't been getting the same amount  
of exercise you were used to."  
        A  
series of low barks.  
        Fraser's  
eyes widened slightly as he glanced down at himself. He was dressed  
in jeans, an open flannel shirt covering the blue T-shirt he wore beneath  
it. "Well, perhaps I have not been getting the amount of exercise  
I was used to as well, but I do get a fair amount, what with helping  
Ray and all..."  
        The  
wolf snorted at him.  
        Fraser  
got to his feet. "Well, if that's you're opinion, perhaps we would  
do well to do something about it. Come on."  
        Diefenbaker  
leapt to his feet and followed his master out the door of the small apartment.  
  
  
        He shifted his weight  
from one foot to the other as he watched the apartment from the opposite  
corner, not wanting to be seen. He had almost turned down the job when  
he'd first been approached about it, but then changed his mind at the  
last moment, when he'd managed to wrangle some extra cash on the deal  
as well.  
        He'd been  
there for quite a while now, and he was bored. If something didn't happen  
soon...  
        Just then  
the subject of his surveillance exited the building, the animal beside  
him quickly trotting out a few paces ahead.  
        He  
pulled back into the doorway, not wanting to be seen, then risked another  
glance.  
        They were  
heading in the opposite direction.  
        He  
waited until they were a some distance away before walking over to the  
payphone. Picking up the receiver, he slipped the quarter in the slot  
and dialed the number from memory. It was answered after the first ring.  
        "It's me. The coast  
is clear." Then he hung up.  
        He  
waited for the light to change before crossing the street. He had just  
reached the apartment building he had been keeping watch on when a car  
pulled up to the curb behind him.  
        He  
turned to face the driver.  
        "So  
how'd I do?"  
        Ray  
Vecchio smiled at him as he climbed out of the vehicle. "Great,  
Willie. Just great."  
        Willie  
Lambert returned the cop's smile. The Mountie had helped him out of  
a tight spot a couple of years ago, and he'd been Diefenbaker's unofficial  
wolf-sitter ever since. He liked Fraser, even though he thought the  
man was a bit strange at times, and he'd come to like the hard-nosed  
detective the Canadian hung out with as well, although he'd rather forgo  
hustling forever than admit it.  
        "Now  
you know the plan," Ray continued, helping Francesca, who was loading  
up some of the supplies to take up to the third floor apartment, "You  
stay here and keep a look-out for them. If Fraser comes back too soon--"  
        "I know, I know,"  
he interrupted. "Tell him I need help with something, and keep  
him distracted for a couple of hours. I got it already."  
        "Don't  
screw this up, kid. We're depending on you."  
        "Hey,  
trust me on this, okay? Fraser's my friend. I won't mess this up."  
        Ray shook his head, bemused.  
"I can see why Benny falls for your 'butter won't melt in my mouth'  
routine, kid."  
        "Yeah,  
well, I'm not just another pretty face," Willie replied, a smirk  
on his face.  
        Ray  
snorted. "You got that right. See you later."  
        Willie  
watched them as they went upstairs, then settled himself in for another  
long wait.  
  
\-----  
  
        Fraser threw the stick  
as hard as he could down the beach, watching as Diefenbaker raced after  
it. The wolf normally did not play fetch, believing it to be demeaning,  
but today he had brought the piece of wood to his packmate and dropped  
it at his feet with a bark. _Perhaps he is feeling sorry for me, too,  
and is trying to cheer me up._  
        Dief  
ran back to him, circling him a few times, waiting for him to attempt  
to take the stick away. But Fraser continued walking towards an empty  
stretch of beach, then sat down in the sand, facing the lake, crossing  
his legs in front of him.  
        Diefenbaker  
dropped the stick and lay down beside him, panting from the exertion.  
        He closed his eyes, feeling  
the warm sunlight on his face, and letting the soothing sound of water  
lapping the shoreline calm him. He thought about his actions during  
the past week, as well as the emotions he'd been experiencing, and tried  
to put things into perspective.  
        "You  
know, Dief," Fraser began, opening his eyes and running a hand through  
the thick fur, "I have always been solitary by nature. It never  
bothered me all that much, working alone in the Yukon. When you chose  
to stay with me after I rescued you from that bear trap, I began to realize  
how much I missed the human contact, the companionship that having someone  
who was close to you could provide."  
        Dief,  
who had been watching him, rested his head on Fraser's lap.  
        Fraser  
smiled. "When I was transferred here, you were the only friend  
I had. Then we met Ray. He was the first person I let get close to  
me in... in a very long time. I don't know why I've always isolated  
myself from others. I suppose it really doesn't matter. Ray has been  
a good friend to us."  
        He  
sighed, memories of all he and Ray had been through the past two years  
flashing through his mind. "A better friend than I deserve. I  
had no right to be upset because he forgot my birthday. Considering  
how much he does for us the rest of the year, it does seem rather petty,  
doesn't it?"  
        He  
stopped speaking as a man jogged past them.  
        "I  
know you miss the Territories. So do I. But Chicago is our home now,  
at least for the time being. Maybe we can't," a small smile tugged  
at his lips as he recalled Inspector Thatcher's expression, "'clean  
up America,' but we can try to help out when we can, and take satisfaction  
in that. The fact that they are Americans should not enter into it."  
        Dief's head rose,  
and he gave a small woof in reply.  
        Fraser  
laughed softly. "Yes, my 'mood,' as you call it, is definitely  
improving."  
        The  
wolf leapt to his feet and gave a happy bark, punctuated by a lick on  
the chin. Impulsively, Fraser reached out to grab him and give him a  
quick hug, followed by a brisk rub of his fur. "Thanks for the  
birthday wishes, Dief."  
        Fraser  
climbed to his feet, a smile on his face. "Come on, Diefenbaker.  
Let's go home."  
  
\-----  
  
        "There, what do  
you think?" Ray asked as he stood on the middle rung of the step  
ladder.  
        Francesca  
looked up the preparations she was placing the finishing touches on at  
the table. "Perfect. What time is it?"  
        Ray  
climbed down, getting both his feet safely on the floor before glancing  
at his watch. "Almost 2:00 p.m."  
        Francesca  
smiled. "I can't believe this plan of yours is actually working."  
        "Hey," Ray  
replied with feigned insult, "I do have my moments of genius. Unlike  
some others..."  
        Francesca's  
mouth was open for a reply when there was a knock on the door. Ray hurriedly  
folded the ladder and slipped it into Fraser's closet while his sister  
moved to answer the door.  
        Margaret  
Thatcher stood on the other side. "I'm not early, am I?" she  
asked as she entered the apartment.  
        "No,"  
Francesca replied, closing the door behind her. "You're right on  
time, Inspector."  
        "Must  
be because you're Canadian," Ray said by way of a greeting. "Us  
lowly Americans are always late."  
        She  
frowned at the thinly veiled insult, but let it pass. Glancing about  
the apartment, she asked, "Is there anything I can help you with?"  
        Ray smiled. "Nope.  
We're just about done. Just relax and enjoy yourself."  
        She  
didn't look to happy with that, but Ray was distracted as there was another  
knock at the door. Everything was going according to plan, and he smiled  
as he went to answer it.  
         _Time  
to get this show on the road._  
  
  
\-----  
  
        Fraser's pace had picked  
up considerably on the long walk back to his apartment, no longer weighted  
down by the depression he'd been carrying around with him for the past  
week. Diefenbaker loped ahead, taking in the strange sights and smells  
city life had to offer. Fraser couldn't help but grin. Dief would circle  
his packmate occasionally, barking happily at something he'd seen, then  
trotting off again, but never getting too far ahead of his human companion.  
        Diefenbaker rushed up  
to him again, barking once, then ran to the entrance of the bakery and  
sat down. Fraser shook his head. "Dief, the whole point of today's  
exercise was for physical fitness. Do you really want to ruin all that  
work for a jelly doughnut?"  
        Dief  
barked once again.  
        Fraser  
shook his head in resignation, deciding to give in to the animal's addiction.  
"All right, maybe just--"  
        Diefenbaker's  
head snapped around suddenly, and he sniffed at the air intently. The  
fur on the back of the wolf's neck rose.  
        Fraser  
stopped in his tracks, looking for the source of the wolf's distress,  
when Dief barked harshly and took off across the busy street.  
        Drivers  
slammed on their brakes in order to avoid the animal, and Fraser followed,  
throwing a wave of apology to them, his heart pounding in fright at how  
close his companion had come to getting killed just now.  
        He  
was half way down the block when he saw it. Black smoke billowed out  
from the top story of a three story apartment building. He increased  
his speed.  
        People  
were standing in clusters on the sidewalk in front of the building.   
Some were crying, their neighbors attempting to offer comfort, others  
stood forlornly as their possessions went up in flames, and still others,  
who were merely passing by, watched in morbid fascination.  
        Fraser  
approached the group closest to him. "Has the fire department been  
notified?"  
        An  
elderly woman nodded, brushing the tears from her cheeks. "I think  
so."  
        "Did  
everyone make it out?"  
        "I  
think so," replied a tall black man. "We managed to knock  
on all the doors on the first and second floors, and most of the ones  
on the third. Luckily, a lot of the residents are out, it being a Saturday  
and all."  
        "ELLIE!"  
        They turned to see a  
young woman running towards the building from across the street. "Ellie,  
where are you?!"  
        She  
ran straight for the door. Fraser lunged in front of her, blocking her  
path, and grabbed her by the arms. "Ma'am, do you believe your  
child is still inside?"  
        She  
struggled against him. "I don't see her anywhere. Ellie!"  
        "Which apartment?"  
        "Three-F. Second  
to last door on the right."  
        "I  
will find your child, ma'am," he promised as he gave her arms a  
gentle squeeze. "Sir," he called to the black man, who moved  
immediately to join them. "Take care of her." Releasing the  
young mother to his care, Fraser then turned to find Diefenbaker, who  
was watching his packmate intently, waiting for any command. "Dief,  
stay."  
        He ran  
into the burning structure.  
        Fraser  
was met by a thick haze of smoke as he rushed up the stairs leading to  
the second floor. He could feel the temperature rise dramatically up  
on the second floor landing. Debris fell occasionally from the ceiling  
as the fire slowly ate its way through the floorboards.  
        He  
slowed his pace as he climbed the stairs to the third floor. Intense  
heat ate the remaining oxygen rapidly, and seared his lungs as he attempted  
to breathe in more than just the thick black smoke. He coughed, harshly.  
        Flames had engulfed the  
hallway to his left, and he knew he had very little time left before  
it would block off his exit. Coughing, he made his way to the woman's  
apartment. He tried the door, but it was locked. Bracing himself, he  
kicked it in. "Ellie!"  
        The  
sounds of muffled crying reached his ears, but the smoke made it difficult  
to see. His eyes burned fiercely, tearing up in an attempt to rid themselves  
of the irritation, which hampered his vision even more. He dropped to  
his knees and crawled toward the sound of the crying child.  
        She  
was crouched down in the corner of the living room, and she shrank back  
in fear when she saw him. She couldn't have been more than six years  
old. "Ellie? It's alright," he soothed, trying to ease her  
fear, but continuing to approach her. They had very little time left.  
"Everything is going to be okay. Your mom sent me here to get you.  
She wants me to bring you to her, Ellie. Do you want to go to your mommy?"  
        She nodded hesitantly.  
        "Okay then,"  
he said, stopping right in front of her. "I'll take you to your  
mommy. Put your arms around my shoulders, Ellie." She practically  
lunged into his arms, wrapping her arms about his neck so tightly that  
she threatened to cut off what little oxygen he was managing to take  
in. He climbed to his feet, getting a solid grip on her. "Okay,  
Ellie. Let's go to find your mommy."  
        The  
flames were approaching this end of the hallway rapidly, engulfing the  
walls and ceiling as well. He moved as quickly as he dared to the staircase.  
As he passed one of the apartments, however, the sound of a dog barking  
reached his ears. He forced himself to keep going. Unable to see clearly,  
he gripped the banister tightly as he descended the stairs.  
        The  
light hurt his eyes as they cleared the front entry and made it out into  
the street. Ellie's mother was there in an instant, practically tearing  
the child from his arms, and the black man followed along behind her.  
Fraser coughed harshly as his lungs demanded oxygen. He wiped at his  
eyes, attempting to clear his vision, but he only managed to smear more  
soot on his face.  
        "Is  
there anyone in 3-C?" Fraser croaked, his voice hoarse from the  
smoke.  
        "Mr.  
Horowitz," the man replied. "But he goes to the club on Saturdays."  
        "Patches!"  
Ellie said suddenly, coughing occasionally, but apparently not otherwise  
injured. "What about Patches?"  
        The  
woman and the man hesitated, not knowing how to tell the small child  
that the dog would probably not survive. Fraser glanced up to see the  
smoke and flames billowing out of the third floor windows, then back  
to the child. In an instant, he made his decision. "I'll be right  
back." He turned and re-entered the building.  
        The  
heavy smoke permeated the entire building now, debris falling more frequently  
from the ceiling. He could barely breathe, what little oxygen left so  
hot that if felt as if he was breathing in the flames themselves.  
        The third floor was now  
fully engulfed, and he dodged the flames as he found the right door and  
kicked it in. The small dog barked weakly at him once, and lacking the  
air to attempt to calm the animal down, he reached down and scooped it  
up into his arms.  
        The  
sound of approaching sirens were barely audible above the roar of the  
fire.  
        Flames licked  
at his clothing as he dashed for the stairs. He groped for the bannister,  
running on auto-pilot. His throat and chest had been seared, scorched,  
turned to ash. His eyes burned as tears flowed freely.  
        He  
couldn't breathe, he couldn't see, and the front door seemed an impossibly  
long distance away.  
        He  
was on the stairs between the second and first floors when the explosion  
hit. A wall of heat slammed into him, the concussion pitching him head-first  
down the stairs.  
        He  
never felt it when he reached the bottom.  
  
\-----  
  
        The small apartment was  
crowded with people. Willie played with Jamie as his mother, Louise,  
watched the two-year-old giggle and coo at the boy. Elaine chatted amicably  
with Esther Pearson over a cold glass of punch. Thatcher and Ovitz discussed  
Canadian politics while Turnbull occasionally offered comments that neither  
agreed with nor objected to whatever he was responding to. Huey and  
Mr. Mustafi talked sports near the window. Others from the neighborhood  
found the food, drink and pleasant conversation to be the stuff good  
parties are made of. Music from Francesca's portable CD player droned  
on in the background. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.  
        Except for Ray.  
        He  
paced slowly near the door of the apartment, glancing every so often  
at his watch. It was after 4 p.m., and Fraser had yet to return from  
wherever it was he'd gone off to. _I knew things were running too  
smoothly. Something just had to go wrong. The party's going great,  
so Fraser, of course, doesn't bother showing up..._  
        "Vecchio,"  
Lieutenant Welsh's voice interrupted his internal tirade. "Nice  
party, considering the fact that we seem to be missing the guest of honor."  
        "Uh," he hedged,  
"I'm sure he'll be here any minute, sir."  
        "Uh-huh,"  
Welsh replied with a nod, then wandered off towards the buffet spread  
once more.  
        "Good  
thing we made all that extra food."  
        Francesca's  
voice came from behind him, and he turned to face her. "Yeah, who  
knew word of this party would spread and half the neighborhood would  
drop in unannounced."  
        "Where  
is Fraser, anyway?" she asked, the annoyance in her voice laced  
with mild concern.  
        Ray  
was about to answer when his cellular phone rang. He plucked it from  
his pocket and flipped it open. "Vecchio."  
        Through  
the din of the party he could barely hear the voice on the other end  
of the line. "Hold on a minute."  
        He  
opened the door and slipped out into the hall, cutting down the noise  
level as he shut it firmly behind him. "Sorry about that. What  
did you say?"  
        "Is  
this Ray Vecchio?" a female voice asked.  
        "Yes."  
        "Do you know a man  
by the name of Benton Fraser?"  
        Ray  
frowned, a sinking feeling in his gut. "Yeah. Why? Who is this?"  
        "I'm Nurse Becker,  
ER nurse at Chicago Memorial Hospital. A Benton Fraser was brought into  
the Emergency Room a short while ago, and you were listed on his identification  
card as the person to contact in case of an accident or illness."  
        Ray's grip tightened  
involuntarily on the small phone. "What happened? Is he alright?"  
        "I'm sorry, Mr.  
Vecchio," the nurse replied, "but I'm afraid I don't have any  
information on Mr. Fraser's condition, other than the fact that he was  
brought in by ambulance about twenty minutes ago. Are you able to come  
down to the hospital?"  
        "I'll  
be right there." He slapped the phone shut, closing his eyes in  
an attempt to calm down. But he couldn't. Fraser was rather stoic by  
nature, insisting nothing was wrong even when he had some sort of problem.  
He would not have allowed himself to be taken to the hospital for only  
a minor injury. The fact that it was the hospital, and not Fraser, that  
had called...  
        He  
opened his eyes and glanced back to the closed apartment door. _Should  
I tell them?_ He hesitated for only a moment before reaching his  
decision. _No. Why worry everyone when we don't even know how bad  
things really are?_ But he did have to tell someone he was leaving.  
        He took a deep breath  
and went back inside.  
        Luckily,  
his mother was the first person he came upon after closing the door.  
        "Ray, this is a  
good party. Who knew so many people..." she stopped when she got  
a good look at the expression on her son's face. "Ramondo, what's  
wrong?"  
        He couldn't  
lie to her, and he could actually use her help to run interference for  
him. He lowered his voice so they wouldn't be overheard. "Ma,  
I just got a call from Chicago Memorial. Fraser's had some kind of accident."  
        "Oh, dear Lord..."  
she murmured. "Is he okay?"  
        "The  
nurse I spoke to didn't have any of the details. I don't want to tell  
anyone until I find out something definite. Can you keep things running  
smoothly here until I find out?"  
        "Of  
course," she agreed immediately. "You go and take care of  
Benton."  
        He  
reached into his pocket and gave her his cell phone. "I'll call  
you when I know something."  
        "Don't  
worry, Ray. I'll take care of everything here."  
          
He leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Ma."  
        He slipped out of the  
apartment before anyone else could stop him.  
  
        Ray pushed the limits  
of safe driving, but the trip from Fraser's apartment to the hospital  
was made in record time. He walked briskly through the Emergency Room  
entrance and went straight to the Nurses' Station. A single nurse was  
there, and she was on the phone. Ray tapped his hand on the counter  
impatiently.  
        She  
hung up, glancing up at him. "Can I help you?"  
        "I'm  
here about Benton Fraser. Nurse Becker called me. I'm Detective Ray  
Vecchio."  
        "Are  
you a family member, Detective Vecchio?"  
        "No,"  
Ray replied, "But I'm the closest thing to family he has."  
        She studied him for a  
moment, the reached down for a clip board. "All right. Please  
fill out these forms as quickly as possible, and return them here to  
the desk. If you'll have a seat in the waiting room, you'll be called  
when we have some information for you."  
        He  
took the forms and went to sit down. There were other people in the  
waiting area, it being too early in the evening for things to have slowed  
down yet. A television set droned on in the corner, giving those in  
the room something to focus on while they waited.  
        Ray  
filled out the forms relatively quickly, having done this for Fraser  
more times than he cared to remember. The last time had been when Fraser  
had been shot in the leg trying to protect the man who had murdered his  
father.  
        An elderly  
man crossing to the TV and changing the channel to a local news broadcast  
caught his attention, and Ray allowed himself a moment's breather from  
the paperwork to watch.  
        "...fire  
swept through the three story building. The only injury reported was  
that of a good Samaritan passing the building at the time of the fire."  
There was footage of the fire department putting out the blaze as the  
reporter's voice continued. "Witnesses on the scene say the man  
went into the burning building to rescue six-year-old Ellie Richards,  
who was trapped in her apartment. He then went back into the building  
to save another resident's dog."  
        The  
camera focused the reporter's interview with one of the witnesses. "Something  
must've happened while he was inside. Patches came running out, barking,  
and then this guy's dog ran inside."  
        The  
reporter appeared on camera once more. "According to one of the  
firemen who rescued the victim, they found the man's dog dragging him  
by his shirt towards the entrance. The victim was taken to Chicago Memorial,  
where he is currently being treated for injuries sustained during his  
daring rescue attempt. His name is being withheld pending notification  
of his family. Julie Francis, Channel Two News."  
        Ray  
returned his attention to the forms in his lap, completing them a few  
minutes later. He brought them back to the desk only to find the nurse  
once again on the phone. He leaned against the counter to wait. Another  
nurse and an orderly walked in behind her, their voices loud enough for  
Ray to clearly hear what was being said.  
        "What  
are we gonna do with him?" the nurse asked.  
        "We  
can't keep him in here. Call the pound."  
        "I  
hate the thought of sending a cute little guy like that to the animal  
shelter. What if no one claims him?"  
        "He  
looks well fed. He must be somebody's pet."  
        "Tell  
me what happened."  
        "Jerry  
said he just came running in, nose to the ground like he was following  
a trail. Made a bee-line for the ER, but Ritchie cut him off."  
         _Following a trail._  
Ray straightened in his seat as his mind followed a trail of its own.  
 _Fraser and Dief go out together. Fraser's hurt and is taken to the  
hospital. Dief's a wolf, so what would a wolf do? He'd follow after  
his master..._  
        "Hey,  
wait a minute," he called out, interrupting them.  
        "Can  
I help you, sir?" the nurse asked.  
        Ray  
flashed his badge. "Detective Vecchio, CPD. Where do you have  
this dog?"  
        She  
turned back towards the orderly. "Tim?"  
        "We've  
got him in the locker room. Jerry's giving him a quick rinse. He's  
filthy."  
        "Take  
me to him," Ray ordered, handing the forms to the nurse still on  
the phone. Tim nodded and led him out of the waiting area.  
        They  
went down the hall into and another wing of the hospital. The acrid  
smell of smoke hit Ray as soon as the orderly opened the locker room  
door.  
        "Jerry?"  
        "Back here."  
        They walked around the  
row of lockers to see another orderly bent over and briskly rubbing the  
animal beneath a large towel. Jerry stood up, taking the towel with  
him.  
        It was Diefenbaker.  
        Dief rushed over and  
began barking at him. Both of the orderlies tensed, thinking Ray was  
about to be attacked. But Ray reached down and patted the still damp  
head. "Hey, Dief. You okay, boy?"  
        "You  
know this animal?" Jerry asked.  
        "Yeah,  
he belongs to one of your patients," Ray replied, then knelt down  
to the animal's eye level. "What happened to Fraser, Dief?"  
        Dief gave a series of  
whines, barks and growls. _A fire? That was **Benny** they were  
talking about on the news? Oh, God..._  
        Ray  
straightened abruptly. "Look, guys. I'll take him from here.   
Thanks for taking care of him."  
        He  
left the locker room with Dief trailing along beside him, and returned  
to the waiting area. He sat down wearily in an empty chair, and Diefenbaker  
curled up at his feet. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, but the  
news report he'd seen replayed itself over and over in his mind. _Oh,  
Benny... What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into now?_  
        "Detective Vecchio?"  
        Ray looked up to see  
a middle-aged doctor standing a few feet away. He stood, bracing himself  
for the worst. "Yes. How's Fraser?"  
        "I'm  
Doctor Parker. I'm handling your friend's case. Why don't you come  
with me, please."  
        Ray  
tried to keep a tight reign on his nervousness as he followed the doctor  
into a small consultation room just inside the ER.  
        "Your  
friend is one very lucky man," Parker began after they'd taken their  
seats. "From what I heard, that fire was a pretty nasty one. But  
I believe Constable Fraser will be just fine."  
        Ray  
exhaled the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as relief flooded  
through him. _Thank God._  
        Parker  
waited until he'd recovered somewhat before continuing. "He's suffering  
from some minor burns on his hands and face. No permanent damage, just  
enough to cause him some mild discomfort. He's also suffering from smoke  
inhalation. We've got him on oxygen, and will be keeping an eye on him  
for the next day or so to make sure his lungs remain clear. He did suffer  
a mild concussion, however, from a fall down some stairs. He was unconscious  
for approximately fifteen minutes, so we'll be keeping an eye out for  
any complications, although I don't expect there to be any. The worst  
of his injuries is a broken left tibia. He'll have a cast on the leg  
for about six weeks, but should have no trouble afterwards."  
        "Can I see him?"  
        "His leg is being  
set now, then we'll be moving him up to a room. I'll have the nurse  
inform you when you can go up."  
        The  
doctor climbed to his feet, and Ray followed. "Thanks, Doc."  
        "I gave him my best,  
detective," Parker said as he led him back out to the waiting area.  
"After what he did today, the world could use a few more like him."  
        Ray nodded, a warm feeling  
of pride in his friend bringing a smile to his face. "It certainly  
can, Doc. It certainly can."  
  
\-----  
  
        Ray kept his eyes on  
the indicator lights above the elevator door, Diefenbaker standing quietly  
beside him. He'd had to wait half an hour longer before a nurse informed  
him Fraser had been taken to his room. The time had gone by fairly quickly.  
After speaking to Doctor Parker, he'd found a pay phone in a quiet corner  
and called his mother, letting her know that Fraser was going to be okay,  
and filling her in on the details of the Mountie's heroics. Most of  
the guests had left, but apparently Elaine had picked up on Mrs. Vecchio's  
distress, and a few of their closest friends had remained behind to wait  
for word. He promised to call back after Fraser's visit, then hung up,  
returning to the waiting room to wait.  
        Now  
Ray was going to see for himself that Fraser was indeed okay.  
        They  
exited the elevator on the fifth floor and followed the signs to the  
Canadian's room, which was at the end of the hallway. Ray slowed to  
a stop at the entrance, standing in the doorway to study his friend.  
        Fraser lay quietly in  
the bed closest to the window, the casted leg held in traction nearly  
two feet above the blankets. He appeared to be asleep.  
        Ray  
entered the room quietly, not wanting to disturb its single occupant,  
and moved to stand at the foot of the bed. The wolf sat down at his  
packmate's bedside, watching over him protectively, but making no move  
to disturb him. Ray examined the sleeping man more closely. The head  
of the bed had been raised slightly to make breathing easier, and a nasal  
cannula fed pure, cool oxygen to the Mountie's polluted lungs. Fraser's  
face was a bit red, as if he'd been out in the sun too long. White bandages  
covered his hands to prevent the burns from becoming infected, and an  
IV was attached to his left forearm, just above the wrist. Fraser looked  
exhausted, and Ray knew it was not only due to today's exertions.  
        As if sensing the presence  
of someone else in the room, Fraser stirred. Bloodshot blue eyes opened,  
blinked several times, then glanced down at Dief before coming to rest  
on him. "Ray...?"  
        The  
Canadian's voice sounded as if someone had taken sandpaper to his vocal  
chords. Ray winced in sympathy. He knew it had to hurt.  
        He  
looked up at the broken leg, then met Fraser's gaze once more. "Well  
at least... you injured the other leg this time."  
        Fraser  
seemed puzzled for a moment, then his face cleared as he remembered Ray's  
teasing him after the incident with Gerard. "Yes, it would seem  
I was fortunate this time." He coughed, then attempted to clear  
his throat.  
        Ray moved  
over to the night stand and spooned some ice chips from the pitcher into  
a plastic cup and handed them to Fraser, who savored the cold wetness  
gratefully. "You were very fortunate this time, Fraser. You could  
have been killed."  
        "I  
had to try, Ray..."  
        "Yeah,  
I know. The kid I can understand. But going back in a second time for  
the dog was nuts."  
        Fraser  
glanced down at Diefenbaker for a moment, reaching out to pet the wolf  
gently, and from the expression on his face, Ray could tell his friend  
was imagining what could have happened if it had been the wolf trapped  
in an apartment fire. "No, it wasn't."  
        Ray  
conceded the point. "Yeah..."  
        Fraser  
put the empty cup back on the night stand, then regarded him silently  
for a few moments, his gaze moving over Ray from head to foot before  
returning to meet his eyes.  
        "I'm  
sorry, Ray," he said quietly.  
        Ray  
frowned. "For what?"  
        "I  
didn't mean to interrupt your date," Fraser said, waving a hand  
to indicate Ray's well-dressed attire, a sad expression on his face.  
"I know you had special plans..."  
         _Oh  
damn. Now he's feeling guilty for ruining something that never happened  
in the first place!_ "Don't worry about it, Benny," Ray  
tried to reassure him. "She understands."  
        "I  
know how much you were looking forward to today," Fraser continued,  
eyes sliding away to stare at the wall behind him. "I didn't know  
the hospital was going to call you. If I had I would have tried to stop  
them--"  
        "Benny,"  
Ray interrupted, hating to see his friend feeling so badly. "I  
said it was no problem. Just forget it, okay?"  
        Fraser's  
eyes returned to him, and Ray tried to keep his expression open and reassuring.  
After a moment Fraser nodded, the guilt on his face easing somewhat.  
        Ray suppressed a sigh.  
Here it was, Fraser's own birthday, and the Canadian was laid up in the  
hospital missing a party he knew nothing about.  
        An  
idea suddenly formed in his mind, and Ray had to fight to keep his excitement  
from showing on his face. He glanced at his watch, then back at his  
friend. keeping his voice neutral, said, "Uh, look, Benny,"  
he began, his voice neutral. "You're looking pretty wiped, and  
my date's waiting, so I'm gonna let you get some rest."  
        Ray  
saw a brief flash of disappointment on Fraser's face before it assumed  
a more bland expression. "Oh, well... thank you kindly for dropping  
by, Ray."  
        He  
felt the guilt keenly, knowing he was inflicting yet another hurt to  
his friend, but forced himself to assume a cheerful expression. "I'll  
see you tomorrow, Benny. Get some rest. Come on, Dief."  
        "Good  
night, Ray."  
        Ray  
turned and walked out of the room, the wolf following, and headed straight  
for the nurse's station down the hall. The young woman who sat at the  
desk doing paperwork glanced up at their approach.  
        "Can  
I help you, sir?"  
        "Yeah.  
Can you page Doctor Parker for me, please?"  
        "Sure,"  
she said with a nod, moving to the phone.  
        Ray  
moved away from the desk, expending his nervous energy by pacing. What  
he had in mind was a little unorthodox, but if he could only convince  
the doctor that it was in the best interest of his patient...  
  
\-----  
  
        Fraser opened his eyes,  
resisting the urge to reach up and rub at them. They had bathed his  
eyes with saline solution in the Emergency Room, yet they still felt  
as if they were full of rough, sandy grit. The oxygen helped cool the  
raw pain in his throat and chest, but his lungs felt heavy, weighed down  
by a ton of soot. And he had a headache.  
        He  
glanced across the room. The privacy curtain had been draw, and he could  
hear faint movement from the other side. They must have moved another  
patient into the room while he was asleep.  
        Ray  
walked in, a goofy smile on his face. "Oh, good. You're finally  
awake."  
        "Ray,"  
Fraser croaked, "I thought you left. Isn't your date waiting?"  
        The smile only got wider.  
"I'm glad you asked me that, Benny. I told my... date what happened,  
and she insisted on coming here to see you."  
        Fraser  
opened his mouth to protest, but Ray had taken hold of the curtain and  
drew it back towards the wall.  
        "Happy  
Birthday, Fraser!" came a cheerful chorus.  
        Mrs.  
Vecchio, Francesca, Inspector Thatcher, Lt. Welsh, Huey, and Elaine stood  
standing on the other side of the bed holding a banner that read 'Happy  
Birthday Fraser!'  
        Stunned,  
Fraser's mouth fell open, but no sound came out.  
        Diefenbaker  
came around the bed and jumped up, his front paws on Fraser's bed. Leaning  
forward, he gave his packmate a quick lick on the chin. Fraser's hand  
came up to rub the wolf's fur, and he blinked rapidly. He though his  
tear ducts had been completely dried out during the fire. He'd been  
wrong.  
        "I, uh..."  
he tried to speak past the sudden lump in his throat, but couldn't draw  
enough air, and he coughed.  
        "Well,"  
Welsh's bemused voice broke into the emotion-filled silence, "it  
looks as if, for once, our verbose Mountie has nothing to say."  
        Warm laughter from the  
others broke the ice, and they put the sign down, moving to more comfortable  
positions around the room.  
        Taking  
pity on his friend, Ray moved to the bedstand, poured a glass of ice  
water and offered it to him. Fraser's hand closed around it, but he  
was too stunned to bring it up to his lips to drink.  
        "First  
party I ever planned, and the guest of honor goes and breaks his leg,"  
Ray complained with feigned annoyance. "Thanks a lot, pal."  
        "And since you couldn't  
come to the party," Francesca piped in happily, "we decided  
to bring the party to you."  
        "This,"  
Elaine indicated with a wave of her hand, "is only who was left.  
Pretty much the entire neighborhood dropped by your place at one time  
or another. You're a very popular guy."  
        "Or  
an easy mark," Jack added jokingly.  
        "Thank  
you," Fraser finally managed, his voice roughened by more than the  
fire. _Not alone,_ his heart sang over and over. _Not alone._  
"You have all made me feel welcome in this city, and I appreciate  
that more than mere words could ever express."  
        Silence  
filled the room, warm and comfortable. Fraser felt the gentle currents  
of their friendship wash through him, carrying his aloneness away with  
the tide. His eyes sought Ray's, and the bright green orbs sparkled  
back at him, reflecting the true depths of their friendship.  
        "We  
brought you a piece of ice cream cake, Benton," Mrs. Vecchio said,  
easing them back into a reality somewhat more richer now. She reached  
down behind the second bed and removed it from an unseen cooler, then  
brought it to him. "It's a small piece, but the doctor said it  
will soothe your throat."  
        He  
accepted it gratefully. "Thank you, Mrs. Vecchio. I'm sure it  
will."  
        Thatcher  
approached him, and he unconsciously straightened to attention, lowering  
the dish of ice cream to his lap. She smiled. "At ease, Constable."  
        He forced his body  
to relax somewhat, but her nearness continued to cause his heart to beat  
at a faster rate.  
        "The  
press is going to have a field day with this, you know," she went  
on. "Vivian Richards will probably be sitting on my doorstep in  
the morning, wanting to play this up for all that it's worth, you realize  
that, don't you?"  
        "I'm  
sorry, ma'am," he replied, bowing his head.  
        She  
reached out to lay a hand on his arm, giving him a small squeeze. He  
raised questioning eyes up to meet her sparkling brown ones. "What  
you did today will be worth the hassle, Fraser." It would be so  
easy to lose himself in the depths of those dark eyes...  
        "So,  
how's my patient doing?" Doctor Parker's entrance broke the moment,  
and Thatcher removed her hand, taking a step back. "Not getting  
drunk on spiked punch, I hope."  
        Ray  
snorted. "Are you kidding, Doc? This is the world's biggest Boy  
Scout you're talking about here."  
        "Well,  
I hate to break this up, but this Boy Scout needs to get some rest."  
        "We understand,  
doctor," Mrs. Vecchio said, gathering up the banner. "Happy  
birthday, Benton. We'll see you soon."  
        "Bye,  
Fraser," Huey said as he helped Mrs. Vecchio carry some of the supplies  
down to the car.  
        "Thank  
you kindly, Mrs. Vecchio. Good night, Detective Huey."  
        "We'll  
see you soon, Benton," Francesca stepped over to the bed and gave  
him a peck on the cheek. "Happy birthday."  
        Fraser  
blushed slightly, glancing at Ray, but the expression on his friend's  
face was one of amusement. "Thank you kindly, Francesca."  
        "I'll be back tomorrow  
with the paperwork for your sick leave, Fraser," Thatcher said.  
        "It's not necessary  
for you to take time out of you busy schedule for such a..." he  
began earnestly, but trailed off at the expression on her face. "Yes,  
well, your schedule is your own perogative, I suppose."  
        "Yes,  
it is," she replied. "Good night, Fraser."  
        "Good  
night, ma'am."  
        His  
eyes followed her as she walked out of sight.  
        The  
doctor glanced at Ray. "Detective?"  
        "Just  
five more minutes, Doc."  
        "All  
right, but then it's time to go," Parker agreed, then left the two  
men alone.  
        Ray was  
watching him with a knowing expression on his face. "You thought  
I forgot, didn't you?"  
        Fraser  
lowered his eyes, ashamed at himself for not giving his friend more credit,  
and gave a brief nod. "I'm sorry, Ray."  
        Ray  
shook his head, exasperated. "Don't be sorry, Fraser. I would  
have thought the same thing in your place. Besides, I'm the one who  
owes you an apology. You were feeling bad enough without my making things  
worse."  
        Fraser's  
head snapped up, blue eyes wide in surprise.  
        "Yeah,  
I knew," Ray answered his unspoken question. "You're pretty  
much an open book as far as I'm concerned, Benny. All those reminders  
of the life you've left behind left you feeling pretty homesick, and  
then a special occasion that's normally celebrated with people close  
to you only made you feel worse. You looked around and realized there  
weren't all that many people to celebrate with. Or so you thought.   
So I figured a surprise party would be the best way to cheer you up."  
        Fraser smiled shyly,  
a warm feeling spreading outward from his heart to envelope his entire  
body. _What did I ever do to deserve a friend like Ray..._ "I'm  
sorry I ruined your plans."  
        Ray  
smiled in return. "Well, I'll let it slide -- this time. You did  
have a pretty good excuse, after all."  
        Fraser  
was silent for a few moments, contented. "This was the nicest birthday  
present anyone has ever given me, Ray. Thank you."  
        "Yeah,  
well..." Ray shrugged, slightly embarrassed by the emotional moment.  
He fell back on his sense of humor. "Just you wait until next year,  
though. We'll come up with something that will blow today's party out  
of the water. But next time, I promise to let you in on the plans.   
We got a deal, Benny?"  
        "We've  
got a deal, Ray," he replied.  
        Ray  
smiled, giving him a confirmational nod. "Okay, good. Now let  
me get out of here before you fall asleep on me."  
        He  
was tired, Fraser had to admit. This evening's emotional revelations,  
on top of today's physical exertions, had left him drained and exhausted.  
But he also felt happier than he had been in a long time, and he had  
Ray to thank for that.  
        Smiling  
warmly, his gaze locked with Ray's, and Fraser let his eyes tell his  
friend how much he meant to him.  
        Ray's  
green eyes responded in kind.  
        "'Night,  
Benny," Ray said.  
        "Good  
night, Ray," Fraser replied.  
        Fraser  
watched as he walked out of sight, then settled back in the bed and closed  
his eyes.  
        But the  
smile remained as he drifted off to sleep.  
  
  
The End  
  
  
\-------------------  
Copyright July, 1996, by Angela Rivieccio. Not meant to infringe upon  
the copyright holders of DUE SOUTH, including Alliance, CTV, CBS, BBS,  
TNT or any other copyright holders. Please do not reproduce for anything  
other than personal reading without written consent of the author. Comments  
welcome at.  
  
  
Return to Due South Fiction Archive  
  



End file.
